


Of Novels and Monsters

by boats_birds



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Cheesy, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, in which kagami is adorable and kuroko loves it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 21:35:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3462875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boats_birds/pseuds/boats_birds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But he should have known that while Kagami still always blamed him for sneaking up on him, it was actually Kagami that was always full of surprises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Novels and Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> My friend came up with a cute idea and I ran away with it. Way far away with it. Based sometime in their future somewhere. I'm not sure, I just live on fluff.

Kuroko thought he had learned everything there was to know about Kagami, that he had learned the arch of his neck with lips alone and the twitch of his cheek before he laughed. He thought that there was no more to be read in the biography of Taiga, since he had read the passages and paragraphs so much that the tanned spine was more familiar than his favorite novel.

But he should have known that while Kagami  _still_  always blamed him for sneaking up on him, it was actually Kagami that was always full of surprises.

They’d lived together long enough to know when the other was asleep just by their breaths when Kagami mentioned it over dinner. Kuroko knew it was slight arrogance on his part, conceit that flashed dark red in his mind, but he  _knew_  Kagami was just so  _happy_. After leaving to America for college with a bump of knuckles and a promise to be back in four years, Kagami practically dripped sunshine through their apartment with his grin.

But every sun had its cloudy days.

“I miss basketball. Not that one-on-one with you isn’t fun or anything! I just…I miss it, you know?”

Kuroko did know. He knew the rough texture of orange rubber as well as the calloused skin of large hands. But he also knew that he wouldn’t make it professionally, and he was okay with that. What he wasn’t okay with, and what left him frustrated even now, was Kagami not going to play professionally, when he was so  _amazing_  that he could have if he wanted.

Even if Kagami told him, eyes locked and breaths captive and fingers laced together, sun-kissed on ivory, that it wasn’t what he wanted.

But what he didn’t know was just how much Kagami missed it, how the longing laced his voice as if he’d lost a dear friend. Basketball meant so much to the both of them, but if Kuroko had to put it in words, basketball  _was_  Kagami. It was trained in his muscles, etched into his bones like the lines on a court. They both loved the sport, that much was obvious, but Kuroko didn’t  _need_  it like Kagami did.

He swallowed his bite of rice before answering, “Then why not look for a basketball club, Kagami-kun? Maybe a neighborhood one that you can play with when you don’t have work.”

Kagami’s work, in complete honesty,  _terrified_  Kuroko. But he was good at his job and loved it, so Kuroko couldn’t dare ask him for a safer occupation. And, he had to admit, he rather enjoyed taking his kindergarten students to the firehouse just to see Kagami in his uniform, even if Kagami fumbled awkwardly around the children and had at least five of them climbing up his legs at any given point. Kuroko thought it was adorable, though Kagami always yelled at him that it wasn’t.

Kagami dove into his third plate, voice muffled by food, “That’s not a bad idea. I’ll look around.” A messy smile split his face, “Thanks, Kuroko!”

Reaching across the table, Kuroko plucked a stray piece of rice from Kagami’s chin before licking it off his fingers, “Please don’t talk with your mouth full, Kagami-kun.”

Face flushing like wildfire, Kagami suddenly busied himself with his plate, a quickly mumbled “Shut up!” that was still stifled with dinner his only response. Kuroko felt his lips quirk up, and briefly wondered if Kagami got the same pride, if Kagami knew how happy he was and if it flashed light blue in his mind. Because if Kagami dripped sunshine, then Kuroko was the clear sky behind him.

Even if Kagami jumped and dropped his chopsticks when Nigou pawed at his leg.

 

* * *

 

Kuroko thought he had learned everything there was to know about Kagami, that he had finished the book he started in high school with the turn of a page and the toss of a basketball. He thought that he knew exactly where to trace the scars that kissed his skin, even when clothing obstructed his touch and a shiver raked up the vertebrae.

But he should have known that while Kagami  _still_  said he learned something new about Kuroko each day, it was actually Kagami that always had new things to teach.

They’d lived together long enough to know just how they liked their coffee in the mornings when Kuroko caught Kagami while cooking breakfast. Kuroko knew it was slight arrogance on his part, confidence that clutched to his bones like dark red, but he  _knew_  when Kagami was lying. After observing him for so many years, Kuroko knew immediately that when Kagami tugged on his earlobe and sniffled in response to “Good morning,” he was hiding something.

Kagami had never been a good liar.

“Yeah, g’morning.”

Kuroko liked to think of himself as somewhat fluent in ‘Kagami-kun’. It took practice, a second language he honed through trial and error in the midst of basketball, shopping trips, sleepovers, and milkshake purchases. There had been mistakes, like Kagami’s hesitating, “N-No, I don’t like anyone,” that he mistook for a truth back in high school.

Even as Kagami carefully peeked at him from the corner of his eyes and pulled on his ear, his sniff louder than his previous words.

Kuroko watched him as he cooked, gaze trailing down the lean back that he knew better with his mouth than his eyes, and Kagami suddenly shuddered. Kuroko continued to observe him after he took his seat at their table, blanket still swaddled around him tightly, as Kagami hummed and carefully pressed a mound of rice into the shape of a teddy bear. Blue eyes stared as he gently placed the rice bear in his bento box, and another shiver stole down his limbs.

“Shit, Kuroko, quit looking at me like that, it’s creeping me out,” he muttered without turning around.

“I’m sorry, Kagami-kun.” He rested his head on the table, tugging the blanket tighter around his shoulders as Kagami grabbed a plate from the counter. “How has the basketball club been?”

Kagami froze, spluttering and nearly dropping the plate of food filled with breakfast to an untimely demise on the floor. He recovered and slid it onto the table and turned his back before answering, “I-it’s fine! Yep, lots of fun!”

Nibbling on a bite of toast, Kuroko couldn’t help the suspicion that slipped into his gaze. He considered it his job to notice and observe his surroundings, even now when he wasn’t on a basketball team, and so the focus of said job had shifted to either kindergartners or Kagami. So, through practice and staring, Kuroko knew Kagami was definitely hiding something, and it most likely had something to do with the stack of lunches, including one with the teddy bear rice, he was currently shoving into a bag.

“Did you make your whole team lunch, Kagami-kun?”

A choke in response, and faster shuffling of the boxes that caused Kuroko to raise an eyebrow, “Y-yeah, I thought they’d like it. I mean, it’s the least I could do, right?”

Kuroko blinked, “And you thought they’d like lunch in the shape of cute animals?”

This time a high-pitched laugh laced with panic, and a face flushing red, “Yeah! T-they really like animals! Weird, huh?”

Honestly, Kuroko wouldn’t know if that was weird or not. It had been a few weeks since Kagami had come home beaming, proudly declaring that he found a basketball team to play with in his spare time. What Kuroko  _did_ know was weird was that Kagami never came home sweaty or tired, flopping himself onto Kuroko on the couch with a “Maaan, today was rough!” like he used to. Instead he went to practice at odd hours, usually the early afternoon, and came home just as early, with a smile and a hug just for Kuroko.

Something was definitely weird, but Kuroko thought the cute lunches were only part of it.

He grabbed his stack of bento boxes, about fourteen high (Kuroko knew two were for himself, the glutton), and hurried to the door. “I gotta go or I’ll be late for work! I got practice after and then I’ll be home!”

Kagami paused at the door, taking off his apron, before turning back. He ran to the table, grabbed Kuroko’s neck to pull him into a kiss, lips messy and rushed, before he was gone again with a grin and an, “I’m off!”

As the door slammed shut behind him, Kuroko reached to touch his lower lip, thumb slipping across the sensitized skin. He returned to his breakfast, all of his favorites filling the plate, and his ears began to burn hot. Kuroko felt his lips quirk up, and briefly wondered if Kagami knew him just as well and if it clutched to his bones like light blue. Because if Kuroko knew all of Kagami’s ear tugs and sniffles, then Kagami knew all of Kuroko’s favorites and embarrassed-red ears.

Even if Kagami was out the door before Kuroko smiled, soft and sleepy, “Please come back safely.”

 

* * *

 

Kuroko thought he had learned everything there was to know about Kagami, that he had enfolded himself so far in strong arms that he would never be able to untangle himself again. He thought that he learned the messy scrawl of Kagami’s biography, rough hands rushing across paper like they did on porcelain skin.

But he should have known that while Kagami  _still_  said he was amazing in so many ways, it was actually Kagami who was so remarkable.

They’d lived together long enough to know each other’s schedule by heart when Kagami forgot his lunch. Kuroko knew it was slight arrogance on his part, certainty that filled his chest with dark red, but he  _knew_  Kagami could be extremely forgetful. He always remembered the important things, happily baking a cake for Kuroko’s birthday or pinning him to soft sheets on their anniversary, but he also often got so excited it seemed things just slam dunked their way out of his head.

He always had been a ‘Bakagami’.

‘ _I’m not an idiot! Don’t worry about bringing them, it’s fine! Really!_ ’

Kuroko read over the text again as he and Nigou walked down the sidewalk. He knew when he had found the usual stack of fourteen lunches sitting on their counter, lost in Kagami’s morning rush, that it was his chance to see what Kagami was up to at basketball practice. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him, it was just a powerful curiosity of why Kagami felt the need to hide something from him. He rarely hid anything from Kuroko, mostly because he was such a horrible liar.

But if the blush he got whenever Kuroko asked had anything to say about it, then it was definitely worth investigating, so Kuroko didn’t hesitate in sending him a text that read, ‘ _You forgot your lunches. I’ll bring them to you, my idiot_.’

Which is how Kuroko found himself holding a bag of adorable food in one hand and Nigou’s leash in the other, standing outside of their local sports center. He reached and placed Nigou in his old bag, the same one that carried him so many times in high school, and patted the side gently with a ‘shhh’. It was warm and sunny outside, so the cool breeze that washed over him as he stepped through the doors was refreshing. Blue eyes glanced around the large, open space with at least four different courts, trying to spot his familiar dark red.

It didn’t take much searching, Kagami had always stood out like a sore thumb, but when he spotted him, Kuroko found himself rooted in place, staring.

“C’mon, guys, pass the ball! Teamwork, remember?!”

Kagami stood to the sidelines, pointing across the court, and it took Kuroko much longer than it should have to realize he was directing children, a whole team of them. They ran down to a hoop, little legs trying to keep up with each other, except for one child Kuroko couldn’t help noticing, especially since he looked younger than all the others. With a mess of dark hair and large dark eyes, he struggled to keep pace with the others. They dribbled until one shot the ball with as much force as he could at the ring. It bounced off sharply before rolling across the floor to Kagami’s feet, where he picked it up and balanced it on his hip.

Split eyebrows scowled at them. Then suddenly he blew a whistle and its sharp, loud cry pierced across the gym. Twelve children gathered around him, all of them still in elementary school and barely reaching Kagami’s waist.

He sighed, “What did I tell you, guys? You gotta pass the ball! There’s no meaning if you win alone!”

Red eyes flared and Kuroko’s own widened, surprised at hearing the echo of his own words he threw at Kagami all those years ago. A too large hand reached and tousled the hair of the child closest to him, his equally too large grin wrinkling his eyes, “But it’s alright! We’ll try again. Let’s practice your shooting for now.”

“Yes, Coach Kagami!” they chorused together, and Kagami followed them as they took off to the free throw line.

Except for one.

The smaller child with dark hair stayed back, eyes fixated on the floor. Kagami stopped and turned, face questioning, but when his mouth moved, likely asking a question, he just shook his little head vigorously. Kagami paused, then knelt beside him, and though Kuroko couldn’t hear what he was saying, the ruffling of black hair and Kagami’s sunshine smile was enough to let him know Kagami was trying his best to encourage him. Then Kagami offered his fist, extending it out to the smaller, and dark eyes sparkled as his own tiny fist bumped against it. He ran off to join the others, Kagami cheering, “You got this, Ren!” after him.

Kuroko was now certain of three things. One, he was going to die if this continued for much longer, for he’d always been weak in the face of cute things. Two, he had never been more thankful for being so unnoticeable in his life just so he could watch this. And three, Kagami was apparently a better liar than he’d ever let on.

Kagami had been telling Kuroko for  _years_  now that he didn’t like kids and wasn’t made to be around them. He was too big and too hotheaded and he never knew what to do around them, he wasn’t patient and kind like Kuroko, ready with an arsenal of ideas to keep young minds busy. He remembered back to when he brought his class to the firefighting department for a lesson on fire safety, and how Kagami had children dangling off each of his limbs, awkwardly trying to shake them off.

A small smile tilted his lips as he watched Kagami gently lean down to correct their shooting form. He was guiding them in how to control the arch of the ball when suddenly, three of them started tugging on his arms, excitedly babbling over one another.

One chirped, “Coach Kagami! Will you show us your dunk again?!” to which another said, “Yeah, the one from the free throw line!”

He laughed, a rumble from deep in his chest, “Maybe later, you guys still need to practice.”

Now seven tiny faces pouted up at him, pulling more on his hands, “Please, Coach Kagami! Please!”

“Guys, practice! We need to work on your shooting.”

A chorus from all twelve, “But pleeeaaase?”

Kuroko blinked, surprised as the air around Kagami suddenly shifted. Eyes hidden by the fringe of his hair, he extracted his arms from the children, and Kuroko could’ve sworn he heard a faint growling coming from his throat. Then he raised his hands by his face, and his fingers curled into claws.

Fiery eyes peeked at his tiny team, sparking playfully, “You should’ve listened to your coach! Now the monster is gonna get you!”

Kuroko watched, quietly chuckling, as all twelve children squealed and took off to the opposite end of the court, causing even Nigou to poke his head out of his bag to see what all the excitement was about. Kagami chased after them, roaring and swiping at them with his fingers. He was trying to make it look like he was running as fast as he could, and Kuroko wanted to burst laughing because he was barely walking with his long legs.

“No, it’s Coach Monster! He’s gonna get us!” they giggled as they flew, mirthful laughter mixed with Kagami’s tiger growls.

Until one, the one Kuroko heard Kagami call Ren, tripped and fell onto the floor with a thud.

Kagami froze, mid-growl and mid-swipe, and would almost look ridiculous if it wasn’t for the shock and worry on his face. Ren slowly raised his head, blinking in surprise. They all stood in complete silence, and Kagami took one step when tears started to well in dark eyes.

Kuroko heard a quiet, whimpering sniffle, and then the cracking of Kagami’s heart mixed with his rushing footsteps.

Kagami swept him into tanned arms, scooped into the cradle of his hold, and began to gently rock him, bouncing him in comfort. It was rougher than how a mother would be, and Kagami’s hands fumbled where he held him, but the concern that laced his voice was warm and, to Kuroko’s complete surprise, calming, much like his own.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright. You’re okay.” A pause as he rubbed the dark hair. “Everything’s alright. C’mon, Ren, show me your ‘grrr’ face!” His eyes crinkled shut as he bared his teeth.

Another quiet sniffle as Ren peered up at Kagami, dark eyes still swimming in tears, then he made his own little claws, releasing a tiny growl back. Kagami’s answering grin was wide, splitting his face in happiness.

“That’s my little guy! You got this. You’re alright.”

He lifted the tiny body effortlessly, swinging him up to sit on his shoulders with a squeak before taking off down the court, the rest of the team quickly following. Their laughs echoed across the gym, as Kagami grabbed a basketball and passed it up to Ren, whose giggles were the loudest. His eyes were still a little red, but his smile brightened his face, especially when Kagami walked close enough to let him dunk the ball straight into the net.

And in the midst of it all, Kuroko still stood rooted in place, dazed in a way only Kagami could make him.

Kagami had once told him that his love for Kuroko was much like Kuroko himself, it was always there, but sometimes it would just appear out of nowhere, leaving him shocked and amazed. Kuroko had never really understood, it wasn’t like he popped up to scare Kagami on purpose (most of the time). But now, with the beam of Kagami’s smile and gentleness of his hands holding up a child, Kuroko comprehended it perfectly.

He loved Kagami. So much more than his body could hold, and it was surely going to fill this entire room with affection, and he’d never felt so full of emotion, and he could feel his ears turning hot. He would never understand what he had done to deserve such a gentle, perfect idiot in his life, who loved him so much and was everything Kuroko had ever needed and waited for. He heard his ribs crack to accommodate the size of his heart as he watched Kagami play more with the kids, and smiled.

Until Nigou, who was now restless and shifting in his bag, barked.

His favorite shade of redhead froze, spine locking into place, and twelve sets of eyes turned to look at Kuroko before Kagami slowly turned to do the same, face horrified.

Kuroko curled his fingers in a wave, “Hello, Kagami-kun. You forgot your lunch.”

A deep inhale. And then, “ _Kuroko,_ when the _he—when did you_ get _here?!_ ”

“I’ve been here the whole time,” Kuroko deadpanned.

“Don’t give me that sh—line, I heard it enough in high school!”

Light blue stared into dark red, and Kuroko couldn’t stop his happiness, because the longer he looked, the more overwhelmed and in love he became. Kagami’s spreading blush certainly didn’t help him to contain his feelings either. Kagami’s mouth opened and closed, small noises escaping his mouth, before he turned away from Kuroko, refusing to meet his gaze.

Ren tugged on Kagami’s hair, peering over the top of his head, “Coach Kagami, is that Kuroko-san? The one you always tell us ab—”

“ _Okay_! Okay, that’s enough practice for one day! Let’s eat!”

Their fascination with Kuroko’s sudden presence forgotten, they quickly swarmed him and the food, tugging on his arms and pants, and patting Nigou’s head from where it poked out of the bag. He let them pull him over to the benches, where he placed the lunches and let Nigou out, just for a bit. Kagami skulked over to join them, lifting Ren off his shoulders and setting him down, where he ran over to Nigou and began petting him.

Kuroko’s smile grew as Kagami pouted, “I told you that you didn’t have to bring them, idiot.”

“I know, but I wanted to.” He paused, peeking up at Kagami from the corner of his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me you became a coach of a children’s team, Kagami-kun? You even snuck around and lied about it for weeks. I’m hurt, Kagami-kun, I thought you were cheating on me,” he teased.

Kagami spluttered, insulted, “What the he—what?! You know better than that! I would never do that! I just!” He immediately turned sheepish, face red in embarrassment, “I just didn’t know how to tell you. After telling you I didn’t like kids for so long, it just seemed...contradicting and dumb, you know? And embarrassing.”

Kagami glanced around at the team, “Really embarrassing.”

Kuroko couldn’t resist and twined his fingers with Kagami’s larger, thicker digits, “I don’t know, Coach Monster. I think you’re doing pretty well.” He stood up on his tiptoes before Kagami could protest, and whispered, “Besides, truthfully, Taiga-kun, it’s so adorable I think I might die.”

A choke and Kagami whacked him in the side with his free hand, “S-shut up! You shut up!”

Kuroko’s smile spread wider on his face, fingers tightening their hold, as they stared at each other. Red eyes softened, tugging back on pale fingers, as his thumb traced over the bony knuckles. They just watched each other, observing the other’s features, until they both paused, blinking, and turned to find twelve sets of eyes staring at them intently. Thirteen, including the mirror set of Kuroko’s that barked.

He wasn’t sure which said it first, but there was a quiet statement of, “Coach is gonna kiss his boyfriend.” And then all of the kids were loudly yelling, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Cheeks turning an obscene shade of red, to the point Kuroko wouldn’t be surprised to see smoke, Kagami took a step towards them, a yell of “Oi! You all stop that! I am not!” his only threat. Kuroko felt his lips quirk up, and briefly wondered if Kagami knew how important he was to Kuroko, if it filled his chest with light blue, and if he was just as important to Kagami. Because if Kagami was Kuroko’s, then Kuroko was Kagami’s.

Even as he stood on his tiptoes and yanked on the collar of Kagami’s shirt, slotting their mouths together to the piercing, happy squeals of children.

He pulled back and stared up at the dark red that had become his favorite color all those years ago, the same shade as Kagami’s face as he blinked dumbly at Kuroko. He smiled.

“I’m sorry, Coach Kagami, I couldn’t resist.”

And it was worth it, worth Nigou’s joyful barking and the children’s bright laughter and Kagami’s embarrassed face, even as Kagami gripped his head and rubbed his hair with much more force than needed.

Kuroko thought he had learned everything there was to know about Kagami, that he had learned the arch of his neck with lips alone and the twitch of his cheek before he laughed. He thought that there was no more to be read in the biography of Taiga, since he had read the passages and paragraphs so much that the tanned spine was more familiar than his favorite novel.

But Kuroko had always loved reading, and he was more than happy to continue this story. He had a feeling it would be his most favorite yet.


End file.
